


A Belated Gift

by GunTotingScienceNerd



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Mentions of medical care, Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6705448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GunTotingScienceNerd/pseuds/GunTotingScienceNerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perceptor and Drift talk about things they've missed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Belated Gift

The battle against the Decepticons was long and harsh. There wasn’t a member of those planetside that wasn't injured. Before any of them could be truly repaired they had to take back the Lost Light, accomplished at great personal expense to the victors. So much so that Perceptor had been pulled in to help the medical crew since Ratchet was relegated to surgeries. As usual, Drift insisted on waiting to be one of the last seen. 

Perceptor claimed Drift’s care for himself. His dark hands took their time as they tended to Drift. Each dent and ding, each nick or cut, each injury or abrasion, was examined as if Drift’s life depended on it. 

“Thanks, Percy” softly spoken words from one who’d been so brash as he taunted each of his opponents during their fight.

Perceptor refused to meet Drift's gaze. Instead, he focused all his attention on the delicate line he'd finished sewing closed in Drift’s wrist. “I don't want your thanks, not for this.” 

Silence prevailed again, extending for long enough that they both twitched from the weight it bore on them. “Then what do you want from me?” 

“Nothing.” It was Perceptor’s turn to speak quietly to hide what he wanted to say.

Drift noticed the slight blush creeping to cover Perceptor’s lighter face. “No, it's not 'Nothing'. Everyone wants something, and there’s something you’re not telling me. How about you don’t do that and just say it. Isn’t it up to me to decide if I’m willing to give it or not?” 

“Fine. If you must know, I want what you aren't willing to give. And before you ask further, I won't tell you.” Perceptor bent to his work hiding his face from Drift’s further inspection. 

“How about I tell you something then? I missed you. Missed talking to you. All those long conversations about science, and philosophy, and Primus knows what else would come up in the wee hours of the night while we were all wrapped up in each other. I miss those.” Drift turned the wheel on his ankle as a distraction from the words falling from his mouth. 

“I miss those too, Drift. I miss talking out problems with you, and how you could always see to the heart of any issue.” Perceptor reached for Drift’s hand stilling it. “I miss a great many things, but mostly I just miss us. The implicit trust that I would always be there for you and you would always be there for me. I miss the no secrets and no lies between us. But mostly I just miss being in your presence. It’s amazing how full you can make a room, and how desolate one can feel without you in it.” 

Drift held Preceptor’s hand like it was the lifeline, to keep him from being flung out of his rapidly spinning world. When he spoke, his words were breathy and full of hope. “Please tell me what you think it is that I’m unwilling to give you?”

Perceptor dropped the tool in his hand bringing it up to stroke the newly painted lines on Drift’s face. His eyes were full of wonder and more than a little fear as his hand traveled along Drift’s cheek, traced the sharp lines of his jaw, then up to stroke a rapidly blushing helm flare. “Yourself, Drift, just yourself. I had always hoped one day you would give yourself to me, and I have been yours for so long now.”

Drift’s hands found their way into gaps in Preceptor’s bicep armor, pulling the scientist close to read his eyes hoping to find sincerity there. “You truly mean that, don’t you?” It wasn't a question, nor was it a statement, more of a shocked realization. 

A small nod was all Perceptor could manage. Drift’s raw tone had stolen his voice. 

“Then I accept the gift that I had no idea I’d been given. In return, I hope you’ll allow me to give you the gift you never thought you’d receive.” Drift pulled Perceptor to him as he lay back on the medical berth. Their kiss was electric, filled with the desire to heal the hurts they had no idea they’d inflicted on each other.


End file.
